Saturday, May 02, 2020

2 comments:

Roderick Robinson said...

My father, several years divorced from my mother, made an uncharacteristic decision in the mid-fifties. Rather late in the day he concluded that the family (actually myself and my two brothers) would shortly cease to function as a unit (when had it ever?) and he would make a last gesture which would represent the final stage of our education. We would go to Paris as a foursome for a week.

To some extent the only tangible outcome was proof that the break-up had already started. During the daytime the atmosphere was moderately toxic, only in the evening - under the influence of fabulous wines from the Bordeaux Big Five - did the tensions slacken. But there was one personal benefit for me and the memories are still as sharp as the actual experience, nearly seventy years ago. For you, I suspect, I need only list the names. Our hotel was in the the Rue des Beaux Arts, we drank (breaking the law relative to the age of my two brothers) out of doors at the Aux Deux Magots and the Cafe de Flore and we ate at the Brasserie Lipp. No need to tell you which Parisian quartier was our home base.

Natalie d'Arbeloff said...

Thanks for this memory Robbie. Of course I know the quartier latin et la Rive Gauche very well. What year would this have been? Did you ever go back there on your own later on?